


Don't tell me it isn't my fault

by MagicalFoxes



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: A lot of other characters make appearances but they're not super relevent, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce tries to be comforting but he's him so that goes as well as you can imagine, Depression, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I have a lot of feels i'm sorry, I wrote this all in one go at 4 in the morning so forgive me, Protective Barry, Sort Of, Suicide Attempt, This is what happens when you listen to My Immortal on repeat for seven hours, but it'll be ok in the end, pain pain and more pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 08:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14209467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalFoxes/pseuds/MagicalFoxes
Summary: (Or: The five times Dick gets caught at Wally's memorial, and the one time someone's already waiting for him.)“I’m sorry,” comes a broken voice. “God, Wally, I’m so sorry.”Tim covers his mouth to muffle his own breathing. He should leave, give the hero the privacy he deserves, but his legs won’t move.“I screwed up. All of this is my fault. How am I supposed to face them? Artemis and Barry probably hate me. And Bruce...dammit, I can just see that look on his face, like he’s so freaking disappointed he can’t stand to even look at me. I don’t deserve to wear this uniform, or even be a hero. I...I killed you. My best friend...I’m the reason you’re dead.”





	1. Hidden in the Hall

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, to be fair...it's like 6:00am, I haven't slept, and I did my best to edit that which I wrote at 4:00am. I've been listening to "My Immortal" and skimming the YJ tag on Tumblr and feeling feels for like seven hours, alright??? I'm so not whelmed and I'm tired of emotions so this is my outlet. That last one is really bad in my opinion, but that's because I couldn't think of a way to wrap this up in a pretty bow. If I come up with something better, I'll publish it as an alternate ending, mkay?

Tim avoids the memorials if he can help it, he has for a while now, but it’s only gotten worse since Wally’s passing. Every time he walks into that room it isn’t the faces of fallen heroes he sees, it’s the faces of his friends and family staring back at him, and it just too overwhelming. When he looks up at Jason he gets angry all over again, reminded yet again that he’ll never know anything more about him than what the other Leaguers can tell him. Sure he has Dick to show him the ropes, teach him exactly what it takes to be a good Robin, but even if his oldest brother was the first of them, what if there are things only Jason could have taught him? He’ll never know now and it’s painful.

But as it happens, Tim doesn’t have a choice but to walk passed the memorial on his way to the bio lab. He’s been helping J’onn study an organism Clark and Hal found on their last mission, and unfortunately that means he has to cross the hall which the cursed room resides. He tenses, looking straight ahead, and crosses in front of the doorway to the elevator he needs, when a sound from inside catches his ear. He pauses, going as quiet as possible and straining to hear. The sound comes again, and it’s with surprise and a little embarrassment that Tim realizes someone is crying. Against his better judgment, he approaches the doorway carefully, silently, and peaks inside.

At first, he doesn’t see anything but the holograms, but upon further inspection he spots the form huddled on the floor in front of Wally’s hologram. It takes a second or so for the mess of black hair and the gray Kevlar to register in Tim’s mind, and when it does he shrinks back out of sight, pressing his back against the wall just next to the opening. Dick is sobbing, completely out in the open, not even trying to muffle the sound or hide himself, and Tim’s heart breaks at the sound. It’s a sound he has never heard from his brother. It’s a pained sound, an agonized sound, worse than anything Tim has ever has the misfortune of hearing from anyone. It makes him sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” comes a broken voice. “God, Wally, _I’m so sorry_.”

Tim covers his mouth to muffle his own breathing. He should leave, give the hero the privacy he deserves, but his legs won’t move.

“I screwed up. All of this is _my fault_. How am I supposed to face them? Artemis and Barry probably hate me. And Bruce...dammit, I can just see that look on his face, like he’s so freaking disappointed he can’t stand to even look at me. I don’t deserve to wear this uniform, or even be a hero. I...I _killed_ you. My best friend... _I’m the reason you’re dead_.”

Tim rubs the back of his hand over his damp cheeks, frustration bubbling through his stomach. Not a single thing that’s happened has been Dick’s fault, why can’t he see that?

“Why couldn’t we just stop fighting for two seconds so I could tell you everything? Dammit, Walls, I was so...so _immature_. But it didn’t help that you were the most oblivious person on the planet. Artemis was so good for you, I didn’t have the right to be so jealous, I know that, but...it was you and me first. We were supposed to be forever, and then she showed up, and I felt like I was losing you to her,” he laughs brokenly, “Geez, listen to me. I sound like such a girl.”

Tim sinks to the ground, letting his head fall back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I wanted to make you as angry as I was. I wanted you to know how I felt, because I couldn’t just come out and tell you to your face. But, I never meant to put her in danger like that. I never meant...God, Wally, I never meant for _this_. Walls, what am I supposed to do? For the first time in my life I have _no idea_ what I’m supposed to do. Without you...there’s nothing left. I’ve lost the respect of my team, my mentor...a-and now I’ve lost you. Everything I touch burns. Everything I love leaves. I’m...I’m sorry I loved you so much.”

Tim hears the sobbing start all over again and he hurries to stand, taking it as his cue to leave. He wipes at his face furiously and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. The sound of his brother’s pained words echo in his head, over and over, and his heart aches. Dick Grayson was the first Robin, the first sidekick ever, the greatest person Tim has ever known; what he isn’t, is emotional. Dick always keeps a level head, even when everyone else is losing theirs, and he always knows exactly what the best course of action is without having to really think about it. This frightened eighteen-year-old, curled up in front of a hologram of his best friend, is nothing like the man Tim knows and admires.

 _Maybe_ , Tim thinks, _I don’t know him as well as I thought I did._


	2. I know you can hear me, but I don't think you're listening.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m fine, Bruce,” Dick sighs. “For the hundredth time, I’m fine.” He starts past him, but is stopped by a hand on his chest. “Please, just-,”
> 
> “You’re not fine,” Bruce tells him as if he’s made the decision for the boy and he gets absolutely no say in the matter. “Tim told me you’ve been coming here every day and you stay for hours.”
> 
> Dick tenses, “Traitor,” he grumbles.
> 
> “He’s worried about you.”
> 
> “I’m-,”
> 
> Bruce growls. “If you tell me you’re fine one more time, so help me, I’m going to lock you in the manor for a month.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daddy!Bats tries, he really does....but...like...he's him, so...

Bruce has been searching for Nightwing for most of the night. The teen wasn’t in his apartment, Bludhaven PD said he took some personal time, and even Zatanna hasn’t heard from him in days. To make matters worse, he ditched his com, which means his tracker is gone too. It isn’t until he grudgingly goes to the Watchtower for his monitoring shift that a thought occurs to him, one which he irritably thinks should have been his first, and he makes his way up to the second deck. He stops in front of the memorials, lingering in the doorway as he scans the room for his once-sidekick.

Sure enough, at the base of Kid Flash’s hologram is a familiar teen. He’s curled up, head resting on his arms atop the metal base, and his eyes are closed. But he isn’t asleep; Bruce and hear him talking softly.

“The captain called me again this morning, I guess he’s worried I’m not coming back to work or something. I didn’t answer, but I can only avoid him for so long, y’know? He’ll send Hastings to come check up on me if he doesn’t hear from me soon. You remember Hastings right? I told you about him once, the jerk? Man, he’s such a prick. Anyway, he’s not the only one I’ve been actively avoiding...Bruce made me stay at the Manor for three days last week. He asked me if I was ok, I don’t know why I thought lying to the Batman was gonna work.” He chuckles, before sighing heavily. “I…called your mom the other day. I wanted to wish her a happy birthday, but when she picked up...I just couldn’t do it. She doesn’t wanna hear from me, right? The kid who murdered her son.”

Bruce wants to go to him, comfort him as much as he can and insist for the millionth time that it isn’t his fault that Wally is gone. But Dick doesn’t want to be comforted, and nothing anyone says will change what he feels in his heart.

“I started thinking about all of our sleepovers when we were kids. Remember that time we tried to prank Iris? And she and Barry came at us with super soakers at like four in the morning? Dude, hanging out with them was guaranteed fun. Every time. Or that time Alfred forgot to lock the pantry while you were over and we ate like three hundred gummy bears in a sitting? You vibrated right the coach!” Dick laughs, and it’s warm and happy, something Bruce hasn’t heard in months. He finally opens his eyes and sits up, tipping his face toward the hologram and smiling softly. “I have to go, Walls, before Artemis shows up. But I’ll come back, cool? See ya later, buddy.”

Bruce doesn’t move, knowing Dick is already fully aware of his presence. When the teen turns toward him, the Bat notes the tear tracks staining his face and the redness rimming his eyes. “I’ve been looking for you,” he says evenly.

Dick snorts, “Obviously not very hard,” he quips.

“Dick-,”

“I’m fine, Bruce,” Dick sighs. “For the hundredth time, I’m fine.” He starts past him, but is stopped by a hand on his chest. “Please, just-,”

“You’re not fine,” Bruce tells him as if he’s made the decision for the boy and he gets absolutely no say in the matter. “Tim told me you’ve been coming here every day and you stay for hours.”

Dick tenses, “Traitor,” he grumbles.

“He’s worried about you.”

“I’m-,”

Bruce growls. “If you tell me you’re fine one more time, so help me, I’m going to lock you in the manor for a month.”

They stare each other down for a few moments, before Dick relents. “You want me to cry?” he asks sharply. “You want me to scream? Punch something? Beat the hell out of a couple of bank robbers? What the hell do you think I’ve been doing?!” His voice had gotten progressively louder until he was finally shouting in his mentor’s face. “I haven’t slept in months, Bruce, is that what you wanna hear?! Or how about how I’m barely functioning? How I’m one step away from losing my job because I can’t even get out of bed most days? Do you want me to tell you all about how destroyed I feel? How my chest feels like there’s a dagger right in the middle of it, and nothing I do will make it go away?!”

Bruce remains silent, even as angry tears begin to slip down his protege’s cheeks.

“I’m not fine!” Dick continues. “There, I said it! I’m anything, and everything, but fine! But you know who cares? No one! No one gives a damn about how I feel! Because everything that’s happened is my fault, Bruce! I killed him. I killed Wally. I don’t even deserve to feel like this!” He turns abruptly and throws his fist into the closest wall, teeth clenched and breath ragid. A strangled sob leaves his throat and he drops his head, keeping his back to the older man. “I did this,” he whispers. “And no one should ever forgive me for it.”

Bruce moves to set a hand on his shoulder, “Dick, I’ve told you before this isn’t on you,” he says firmly. “And I know I can’t convince you, but I wish you would at least try to believe me. Wally knew what he was doing. He made the decision to help the team, you didn’t force him to do anything he didn’t already want to. Don’t let this ruin your life.”

Dick straightens, pulling away as he turns around. “It already has,” he tells him, dark and emotionless.

Without another word, he walks away, leaving Bruce wondering not for the first time why such awful things only seem to happen to the best of people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be nice or get out.


	3. Half a step forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hey, shrimp, Z told me you haven’t been eating._  
>  She said this was your favorite.  
> -Artemis. 
> 
> Breath hitching in his throat, Dick rereads the message over and over just to be sure he isn’t hallucinating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY IS IT SO SHORT  
> AAAHHHHHHH
> 
> ok, have fun....

Dick shrugs off his jacket as he steps into the memorial room, throwing a smirk and mock salute at Jason’s hologram before making his way to Wally’s. The room is fairly dark, but as he walks up, something sitting on the base catches his eye; it’s long and wrapped in white paper. Curiously he reaches for it, instantly recognizing the sticker from his favorite Deli in Gotham holding the paper closed. He blinks a couple of times, as if making sure this isn’t a figment of his sleep deprived mind, before looking up and spinning to search the room. He’s alone, as usual, but then who put this here?

Suspiciously, Dick peals the sticker back and unwraps the paper. “Ok...so it’s definitely not a bomb,” he mumbles, staring down at the Turkey sandwich in his hands. He glances around again, but again he comes up empty. Reaching into the pocket in his jeans he retrieves his phone and dials the third number on his speed dial.

Four rings later, a tired voice answers on the other end of the line. _“Dick?”_

“Hey, Tim, were you on the Watchtower this morning?” Dick asks.

There’s a yawn. _“Dick, it’s six in the morning,”_ Tim replies. _“I’ve been out on patrol all night and I just got into bed like ten minutes ago...when would I have gone to the Watchtower?"_

Dick hums, “Yeah, guess you’re right…”

_“Can I ask what this is abou-,”_ _**Beep.**_

Dick puts his phone away and sits on the floor cross-legged, eyeing the sandwich cautiously. After one more glance around just to be sure he is in fact alone, he turns it over to more carefully inspect it and is surprised to find something written in Sharpie across the wrapper.

_Hey, shrimp, Z told me you haven’t been eating._  
She said this was your favorite.  
-Artemis. 

Breath hitching in his throat, Dick rereads the message over and over just to be sure he isn’t hallucinating. His eyes glue themselves to Artemis’s name, written in that same messy handwriting he’s seen scrawled across school papers and mission reports for years. Despite knowing full well he won’t find anything, he looks around again, hoping that maybe she’ll be leaning against the wall watching him, waiting to tell him that she forgives him and that she doesn’t blame him. But they aren’t there yet, and Dick knows it’ll be a long time before they can face each other like that; but at least this shows they’re making progress.

He looks up at Wally’s smiling face and a smirk tugs up the corner of his lips. “Jealous?” he asks teasingly, waving the sandwich before taking a bite. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until now, as the flavors touch his tongue and he slowly begins to chew. And maybe he moans a little too loud, but there’s no one around to hear him, so he doesn’t dwell on it too much.

 

In the monitor room, leaned back in a chair with her feet kicked up on the desk, Artemis watches the scene with a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice or nothing.


	4. You were supposed to follow me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a constant cycle he can’t bring himself to break. He thought that the message from Artemis would somehow thaw the ice in his chest, but it didn’t; or at least not enough to make a real difference. He’s so tired of feeling this way, hating himself. The guilt is eating away at him, slow and painful, and he can’t take much more.

Dick can’t remember the last time he didn’t feel like hell, it’s just been too long. He goes on patrol, gets back to his apartment just as the sun is rising, and then goes to the Watchtower where he stays until one in the afternoon. It’s a constant cycle he can’t bring himself to break. He thought that the message from Artemis would somehow thaw the ice in his chest, but it didn’t; or at least not enough to make a real difference. He’s so tired of feeling this way, hating himself. The guilt is eating away at him, slow and painful, and he can’t take much more.

So he finds himself here again, sat on the floor in front of the damn hologram like it’s going to help at all. “I hate you a little,” he blurts after over an hour of silently staring at the face of his best friend. The words are surprising, even to him, but he doesn’t stop. “Did you ever even try to understand how I felt? Or did you just get angry? Did it ever occur to you that I was going through more than I could handle, and that I just needed you to be there for me? Or were you too worried about your girlfriend and her problems? Did I...did I even matter to you anymore?” He knows he won’t get a response, but he can’t help the anger pouring from his from his throat. “You promised college wouldn’t change anything, just like you promised she wouldn’t change anything. You promised we would always be there for each other, and that nothing could tear us apart...why did you make so many promises you were never gonna keep?”

“Is that how you really feel?”

Dick tenses, anger redirecting to himself for not hearing anyone enter the room. “Leave me alone, Z.”

Zatanna of course does the opposite. Taking to his side, she sits down and looks up at the holo-statue with a warm smile. “If he were here right now, he’d probably try to hug you and you’d just cuss him out.”

“If he were here I wouldn’t be saying any of this,” Dick tells her, glaring at the floor.

“I know you,” Zatanna says. “You hold everything in until you explode, there’s no way you’d keep all of this from him forever. Eventually he’d hit the wrong button.”

Dick scoffs, “You would know,” he mutters. “Considering how our relationship ended. Guess I’m just destined to lose everyone I care about...”

“Hey, don’t do that,” Zatanna tells him seriously. “You didn’t lose me, Dick, I’m right here. Just because we couldn’t make it as a couple doesn’t mean I wouldn’t go to war for you, got it? And even though you and Wally had your issues, he was your best friend and he loved you. I know he wouldn’t blame you for any of this.”

“But everyone else does,” Dick says matter-of-factly. “Artemis, the team, Barry...they all think I got him killed. And they’re not wrong, Zatanna, his blood is on _my_ hands.”

“Dick-,”

“I’m the one who asked for Artemis’s help,” he continues. “I knew Wally would follow her. I knew he’d do everything he could to keep her safe. I had the chance to pull the plug, and I should have, but I was so focused on the damn mission that I couldn’t do it. I had to see it through, no matter the risks…I’m no better than the Bat.”

Zatanna wraps her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re not Bruce,” she insists desperately. “And you’re not a bad person, Dick, and none of this if your fault! Wally made his own decisions that day, and nothing any of us said or did would have stopped him, you know that. Please, _please_ stop tearing yourself apart like this, I can’t watch it anymore.”

Dick pushes her away as he stands. “Then don’t watch, Z.”

Zatanna can only watch in stunned silence as the hero walks away.


	5. Release me from this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes Captain Marvel, Superman, and Wonder Woman to hold Flash and Batman back from ripping Booster Gold apart. Flash landed a punch square in the other hero’s face just before Batman Zeta’d up. The second Bruce sees Booster, he lunges for him, grabbing him by the front of his uniform and throwing him across the medbay waiting room. Barry is screaming his head off, demanding answers and trying desperately to get out of Billy’s grasp. Diana and Clark grab Bruce on either side, pulling him away as Hawkgirl goes to help Michael off the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah, Booster Gold's ID is Michael Jon Carter, if any of you care. Just a tid bit so you're not like: "But what are you calling him Michael?!" That's freaking why, my dudes.

It’s about three in the afternoon when Barry materializes on the Watchtower for the League’s monthly meeting. He dreads these stupid things more than anything else, but as a Founder he doesn’t really have much of a choice but to suck it up attend. Wally used to tell him one meeting a month wasn’t going to kill him but Barry begged to differ, especially after that one time he told Bruce he was wrong; let’s just say the Flash was suspiciously unavailable for the next few League missions.

With a a dramatic sigh, Flash heads for the elevator, only to pause for a split second and decide on making a stop at the Memorials to pay a quick visit to his nephew. It’s just a hologram, but somehow it’s comforting. He isn’t really looking when he zips in and stops in front of Wally, so he barely misses running into the form lying on the floor. A last second side step is all that keeps him from stepping on the figure. Barry looks down and his eyes widen behind his cowl. “Dick?” The nineteen-year-old doesn’t budge, and Barry would have to be blind to miss the blood seeping through the gray kevlar and pooling on the ground. He drops to his knees, quickly checking for a pulse and sighing in relief when he finds one, albeit faint. “Bats!” he says a little too loudly as he presses his com. “Nightwing’s down!”

 _“Excuse me?”_ comes a dark growl.

“I found him on the Watchtower,” Barry says, looking the teen over. He finds the source of the blood: a stab wound in his back, far too close to his kidneys. There’s a gash across his stomach that tore cleanly through the kevlar like it were cotton. “He’s really messed up, Bats. Multiple wounds, excessive blood loss. Whoever did this knew how to get through his uniform.”

 _“I’m on my way. ETA, ten minutes. Get him to J’onn,_ now. _”_

Suddenly, Dick groans. “F-Flash?”

Barry shushes him, “Don’t over exert yourself,” he tells him. “Bruce is on his way, pal, and I’m gonna get Manhunter to help get you to the medbay.”

“Losssst ‘otsa blood,” Dick mumbles. He tried to open his eyes, but he isn’t strong enough. “N-not gon’ mmag it.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you try to get help?!” Flash demands, tapping his com again. “J’onn, my location, _now_! It’s Nightwing!”

“Dun wanna…” Dick forces out with far more effort than it should take. “Jusss...l-leave me…”

Flash feels a stab through his heart. Dick didn’t come to the Watchtower to be saved, he came to die. Right here, in front of his best friend’s memorial; in front of the reminder of his greatest failure, and the one thing he’ll never be able to forgive himself for. “You’re a dumbass!” Flash snaps without thinking. “Wally would be pissed if he saw you like this over him!” Dick’s lips part like he’s trying to flash that insufferable Robin grin that used to drive everyone in the League crazy, and Barry can see the blood staining his teeth. “He wouldn’t want this, Dick, you know that!”

“I don ged wha I wanttt, he doesssn’ either.”

“Flash!” J’onn calls out as he rushes toward them. “How long has he been here?”

Barry’s eyes are full of fire as he rounds on the Martian. “Who _the hell_ is on the fucking monitors?!” he demands, anger straining his voice. “Why didn’t anyone see him?! He could have _died_ if I hadn’t stopped!”

“I believe Booster Gold was on duty,” J’onn replies, using his telepathy to lift the fallen hero.

Barry’s entire body is vibrating, and he can barely lift his hand to press his com. “Booster, you have ten seconds to get your ass to the medbay,” he growls darkly.

 _“Ten seconds?”_ comes a confused voice. _“By how am I supposed to-,”_

“Ten!” Barry cuts him off. “Nine, eight…J’onn, let’s move!”

It takes Captain Marvel, Superman, and Wonder Woman to hold Flash and Batman back from ripping Booster Gold apart. Flash landed a punch square in the other hero’s face just before Batman Zeta’d up. The second Bruce sees Booster, he lunges for him, grabbing him by the front of his uniform and throwing him across the medbay waiting room. Barry is screaming his head off, demanding answers and trying desperately to get out of Billy’s grasp. Diana and Clark grab Bruce on either side, pulling him away as Hawkgirl goes to help Michael off the floor.

“If he dies, you die!” Bruce warns, practically foaming at the mouth.

“What the hell were you doing up there?!” Barry demands. “Where were you?!”

Booster is visibly terrified, and he moves to cower behind Hawkgirl. “I-I f-fell asleep,” he squeaks.

“YOU FELL ASLEEP?!” Both men explode.

“This isn’t helping!” Clark shouts over the chaos. “Beating him won’t save Nightwing!”

Barry kicks his legs out, but Booster is too far out of his reach. “But it’ll sure as hell make us feel better!”

“Michael,” Diana says sharply, her own anger just below the surface. “You’re suspended until further notice.”

Booster pales, “Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Shaira, get him out of here,” Clark orders.

Once the pair are safely out of range, Batman and Flash are released. Diana positions herself in front of the door for good measure.

Bruce paces the room and Barry vibrates with anxiety for another forty-five minutes before the Medbay doors swing open. They freeze, readying themselves for the absolute worst as J’onn walks out to them.

“He will survive. No organs were demanded.”

“Oh thank God,” Barry breathes in relief, practically melting into his chair.

Bruce lets out a slow, heavy breath through his nose and runs a hand down his face. “Can I see him?” he asks.

J’onn shakes his head. “I do not believe that would be wise,” he replies. “He needs as much rest as he can get. His injuries were not the only things jeopardizing his life, I’m afraid. He was severely dehydrated and his blood sugar was dangerously low for someone so active. His kidneys and lungs were barely functioning, and his liver will need to be detoxed right away.” 

“He exhausted himself,” Bruce says darkly. “His body was slowly shutting down.”

“And it would have been incredibly painful for him,” J’onn adds. “When I did his blood work, the alcohol level was four times the legal limit…”  
Barry whistles, “Geez, he was hammered…”

“But where did he get the alcohol?” Clark asks. “He’s underage, and you don’t keep it in the manor. He’d have to-,”

Bruce growls low in his throat. “Roy.” He turns with a swish of his cape, practically shoving Diana aside as he pushes through the door.

“Bats, wait!” Barry calls after him, successfully halting the Bat before he can fully leave the room. “Before you hunt down Roy, you need to know…” his voice trails off.

Turning back, Bruce levels the speedster with a glare. “What?” he demands.

“He...he didn’t want help,” Barry forces out, trying to ignore the pang in his chest. “H-he told me he didn’t want to be saved, Bruce. He…” he gulps, “he _wanted_ to die. Whether it was from Roy, or some other way, he would have gotten what he wanted and he would have gone out in the field, and this would have been the result.” He sighs, voice turning soft and pained, “Bruce...I found him in front of Wally’s holo-statue. You haven’t told him yet?”

There’s a beat of pure silence so heavy it’s suffocating; no one speaks, no ones breathes. Bruce watches Barry, as if doing so will somehow change the broken look on the speedster’s face and erase the words that have left his lips. But it doesn’t, and Bruce has to face the facts. Straightening up to his full height, he pulls his cowl back and looks at J’onn with an expression that says the Martian had better step aside before he is physically removed. “I’m going to see him.”

J’onn doesn’t argue, knowing it’s in his best interest, and side steps away from the doors.

Bruce’s eyes fall on his protege as soon as he steps into the room, and anger bubbles through his chest. Dick is hooked up to a ventilator, four different drips, his exposed torso is more bruises and gashes than skin, while his right eye is purple and swollen shut, and his nose is obviously broken. He’s a mess to say the least, and Bruce knows he trained him better than this. If he had been sober, it would be the enemy in this condition, not Nightwing. Bruce approaches the bed and stands over his son, absentmindedly raising a hand to brush aside messy black hair.

“You don’t decide when you die,” Bruce tells him. “Do you hear me, Richard? I won’t allow it.” Only silence answers him, and he shakes his head. “I know you can hear me. J’onn didn’t put you on nearly that many sedatives.”

There’s a strained, raspy chuckle from behind the oxygen mask, and a fain smirk appears on the teen’s lips. “Got me,” he chokes out.

Bruce feels sick to his stomach at the sound, but doesn’t let it show. “Dick, this is my fault,” he says seriously.

“How do you figure?” Dick asks, not even trying to open his eyes. “I caused all of this.”

“There’s something you need to know,” Bruce replies, and there’s the slightest hint of regret in his voice. “Something I should have told you before, but didn’t. I kept it from you until I was sure, because I didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing.”

Dick only hums.

“There’s a possibility that Wally is still alive.”

Good eye shooting open, Dick looks up at his mentor with the most desperate expression to ever adorn his face. “W-what?”

“Flash thinks that the energy of the Speed Force pulled Wally away,” Bruce explains. “He thinks that we can pull him back if we can access-,”

“How?” Dick demands, the heart monitor beeping loudly as his heart rate spikes. “What do we need to do?”

Bruce shakes his head, “We’re not sure,” he says. “But we’re working on it.”

Dick takes a couple of deep breaths as tears start to form on his cheeks. He opens his mouth to speak, but has to bite his lip to hold back the sob of relief threatening to tear from his throat.

Bruce gently sets a hand on the teen’s forehead, “We’re gonna bring him home, Dick. I promise.”

Dick only nods, mind reeling and repeating his mentor’s words over and over.

_We’re gonna bring him home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this headcannon that Roy was the bad influence in the sidekick club without really meaning to be. Like, he was just trying to be a teenager and didn't think about the fact that little Wally and Dick were watching him like hawks.  
> I dunno, that's just me.
> 
> Be nice, or get out.


	6. Stay with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick blinks. “You... _ran_...out of the Speed Force? _Just like that_?”
> 
> “Well, I mean, you have to run to get _into_ the Speed Force so it’s not that ridiculous when you think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one! I apologize for crappy quality. Like I said, it's very early in the morning and I literally have not slept in like twenty hours.

Nightwing hates getting summoned to the Watchtower for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because ever since his little incident Booster Gold nearly jumps out of his skin every time he sees him and Captain Marvel has to play escort from the Zeta room to wherever it is Dick is needed, which means everyone stares. _Everyone._ It's like they all think he's going to explode at any second or something, and it's irritating. What happened was a one time deal, it won't happen again, so everyone should be able to just forget it happened and move on. That's how Dick is choosing to handle it, and it seems to be working rather well.

“Batman said to wait on the view deck for him and the others,” Billy says as they step off the elevator. “But, um, y’know...if you wanna go…” he nods down the corridor and clears his throat. “I can come get you…”

Dick rolls his eyes behind his mask, “Actually yeah, I do,” he admits. “Thanks, Billy.” He doesn’t wait for the inevitably awkward response before he makes his way toward the Memorials. He notices as he approaches that the lights are off, something that Dick can’t recall having ever seen before; it was like an unspoken rule that the room stay lit for anyone to visit whenever they so choose. But, Dick decides not to dwell on something so insignificant and simply orders the computer to activate the lights. He’s too exhausted to let his brain over analyze every tiny thing right now. He waves to Jason as he passes, stretching his arms over his head to loosen the tight muscles. He hasn’t completely healed yet, and he can feel the stitches pull a little with his movements.

“Hey, Walls, I’m back!” Dick announces as he approaches the hologram. He’s rolling his neck out, eyes closed, so he doesn’t see the grin directed his way or the emerald green eyes watching his every move. “ _Yes_ I tore my stitches, but in my own defense the guy was a rapist and totally deserved the extra strength in that kick, so I mea-,” he stops abruptly as his eyes finally open.

“Hey, Richie-Rich, I’m back.”

Dick blinks, then rubs his eyes, then blinks again, before he’s sure the freckled face he’s looking at is actually real. He should punch him, scream at him, hug him and tell him how much he missed him, but none of those things happen. Instead, a sob rips from his throat as his emotions overwhelm him, and his knees buckle.

“Whoa!” Wally grabs the younger before he hits the ground and laughs. “Hey, keep it together, man.”

Dick looks up at him, taking in the familiar features, and a grin slowly overtakes his face. “Wally?”

“The one and only,” Wally beams. “Though, apparently I’m not the one and only Kid Flash anymore. Also, what the hell did that kid do to my suit?!”

Dick laughs, loud and hysterical, and it’s the first time in over a year that he’s been able to make the sound without force. He wraps his arms around his best friend’s neck and buries his face in Wally’s shoulder, inhaling his scent and melting into it. “God I missed you.”

Wally returns the embrace just as fiercely. “I know,” he says softly. “Uncle Barry told me about...what happened. I’m sorry that I put you through that.”

“You ever do something that stupid again and I’ll kill you myself,” Dick warns, earning a chuckle.

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Dick’s grip tightens suddenly, as tears begin to soak through the older boy’s t-shirt. “Promise you won’t leave me again,” he pleads brokenly.

“I won’t,” Wally assures him. “Never again. I promise.”

“Wait,” Dick moves back, eyes narrow, “when did...h-how did-?”

“I know what you’re thinking!” Wally says quickly. “But Bruce and the others had nothing to do with it. I...I came back on my own. I’m not really sure how, but I was standing there in this _unbelievable_ darkness, and this voice just started saying to run. It kept telling me someone was waiting for me, and I...ran.”

Dick blinks. “You... _ran_...out of the Speed Force? _Just like that_?”

“Well, I mean, you have to run to get _into_ the Speed Force so it’s not that ridiculous when you think about it.”

“Wally, you were gone for over a year,” Dick tells him. “Are you trying to tell me you spent all of that time running?”

Wally shakes his head, “It didn’t feel like a year in there, Dick,” he explains, uncertain. “It felt like...days, maybe? Hours? It was like time stopped. But when I started running I- uh,” he chuckles awkwardly, “never mind.”

Dick raises an eyebrow, “...what?”

“It’s just, while I was running,” Wally says, looking away. “I heard something- er, _someone_. I heard Artemis crying for me, and then I...I heard _you_ crying for me. I heard you talking about wanting to die, about how guilty you felt and how sorry you were. I heard everything.”

“That’s impossible,” Dick says evenly, but the tips of his ears are pink.

“I’m just telling you what happened, you don’t have to believe me.”

Dick shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter what happened in there, or how you got out. All that matter is that you’re back now.”

Wally smiles, “Yeah.” He looks up at his Memorial and hums, “Y’know, I look pretty good in hologram form. We could leave it up…”

Dick reaches down and flips the deactivation switch, “I’m not looking at thing ever again,” he says firmly. “Next time it goes up, I better already be dead.”

“That’s fair,” Wally agrees, slinging an arm over the younger’s shoulders. “So tell me, Boy Wonder, what happened while I was gone?”

Dick smirks, “Nothing that matters.”

 

Barry smiles as he watches the scene unfold on the security monitor, leaning back in his chair with a relieved sigh. “I don’t know about you, but I definitely needed to see those two make up.”

Bruce doesn’t respond, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINISHED.
> 
> Be nice, or be gone!

**Author's Note:**

> Comment and Kudos are very appreciated!  
> Please be nice and we'll all get along just fine. Mean things will be deleted because no one wants to see that.


End file.
